


Hollow

by Archer973



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aiden's Death, And Aiden feels, And Lydia feels, F/M, Gen, Lots of Ethan feels, M/M, basically all the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 20:48:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1955643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archer973/pseuds/Archer973
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aftermath of Aiden's death. Lydia comforts Ethan as they both mourn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hollow

**Author's Note:**

> I recently rewatched the end of 3b and sobbed over Aiden all over again. Seriously, it hurts so bad and I feel like they never showed any real mourning among the characters, so here you go.

Everything seemed blurred around the edges, as if his eyes couldn’t quite focus right. He knew people were there, probably even talking to him, but he couldn’t concentrate enough to listen. The only thing that seemed real was the empty ache inside his chest, the massive hole that had been ripped open by the death of his brother.

Aiden couldn’t be gone. He just couldn’t be.

Warm hands pulled him to his feet. He didn’t want to go. Not without his brother. He fought, trying to pull away, but the hands were strong. There were two sets now. He recognized one smell as Derek. The other one was Scott.

There were the voices again. But this time they didn’t seem to be talking to him. Derek was saying something, something about moving the body. Then Derek’s scent was gone. A gentler, more flowery smell took his place. Lydia.

He would have known her scent anywhere. It was ingrained in his brother’s clothes, on his skin. He remembered how much he’d hated it when Aiden had first come back smelling like her. But then it became normal, just another part of his brother’s scent.

A small body wedged itself under his arm, turning, trying to draw him away. He let her. He knew Scott was still near them, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to bury his nose in Lydia’s hair and see if he could catch a whiff of Aiden’s scent.

They were in a car now. It was just the two of them. They were moving. He didn’t care where they were going. If he had been alone he would have driven off a cliff. Death would be better than living with your heart ripped in half.

“Don’t you dare.” It was the first words he had heard since Aiden had stopped breathing. He turned his head. The world was still blurry. All he could see was a pair of hard hazel eyes rimmed in red.

“Don’t you dare,” she said again. “I don’t need to be a banshee to know that look. Aiden died protecting us, protecting you. Do you really want to throw that back in his face?”

“He didn’t need to protect me.” The words sounded slurred and very far away, as if someone else was talking.

“He was your brother,” Lydia replied. “Of course he needed to protect you.” The car stopped. He got out. They were at Scott’s house. Suddenly Lydia was in front of him, green eyes flashing.

“I lost Allison,” she said, her voice shaking. “I lost Aiden. I can’t lose you too.” Then she turned and walked away. He remained frozen for a moment. Then he followed her.

They sat on the couch. The world had gone fuzzy again. He had started to shake. Lydia was sitting beside him, small hands wrapped around his large one. He could smell her tears, hear her uneven breathing. She shifted and suddenly he could smell his brother.

He turned and leaned down, burying his nose into the side of her neck. There it was again. Aiden’s scent. She carried it just like his brother had carried hers. The emptiness in his chest was choking him. He couldn’t breathe.

Small arms snaked around him, one around his waist, the other around his shoulders. They squeezed tightly, holding him together as sobs began to wrack his body. He felt a cheek damp with tears rest against the top of his head and finally allowed himself to cry.

 

The body-shaking sobs had stopped. A bone-deep weariness had taken their place. He didn’t even lift his head from Lydia’s shoulder when he heard the front door open. He was too exhausted to care was happened next.

“Ethan?” He knew that voice. He knew that scent. Danny.

He opened his eyes and blinked, lifting his head. Danny was crouched in front of him, hair mussed and clothes haphazardly thrown on. He felt the tears start again.

Immediately Danny was beside him, drawing him into the circle of his strong arms, whispering meaningless comfort. He breathed in the smell of his detergent and cologne and the sweet, earthy scent that was all Danny. He was home.

Lydia moved beside them, starting to get up. His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. She stilled, frozen in her half movement. He looked at her, body still tucked up against Danny’s, trying not to let his eyes overflow again.

“Stay,” he whispered. “Please.”

She stayed. She moved so that her arms rest beside Danny’s, holding him, her body curved along his back, head resting on his shoulder. Eventually he became aware of the others. Scott was leaning against Danny’s knees, one hand resting on his calf while the other arm encircled Isaac. Derek was on Isaac’s other side, upper body resting against his knees while one hand touched Isaac’s arm and the other was resting on Lydia’s knee. Stiles was pressed up against Lydia’s legs, eyes half-closed, looking like he had barely escaped the grave himself.

They were all mourning Aiden, he realized. They were mourning his brother, and the grief that loss had caused him. They cared. Even though he and his brother had tried to kill them, had succeeded in killing their friends, they could but that all aside, for that night at least, and mourn his brother.

The tears started again, but this time the warmth of the people around him made it slightly easier to bear. And that was enough.


End file.
